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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632769">slice of heaven</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla'>ElasticElla</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Gore, Grief/Mourning, Masturbation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:33:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25632769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Freddie liked Beverly a lot. </p><p>Too much even, she can admit that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Beverly Katz/Freddie Lounds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Battleship 2020, Battleship 2020 - Yellow Team</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>slice of heaven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/gifts">kimaracretak</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*spoilers through season 2 episode 5</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Freddie liked Beverly a lot. Too much even, she can admit that. It’s best not to have real feelings for the people you’re screwing for information, better still not to have so many feelings that you ruin a story. </p><p>There’s a sim card full of photographs of Beverly, worth a small fortune if she uses them now. </p><p>She drives up to her great-uncle’s cabin instead. Thoroughly in the middle of no where, there will be no anonymous tips, no internet, nothing resembling work. She doesn’t even bring her laptop or camera, would leave her phone if it wasn’t for some stubborn bit of self-preservation. There’s a cabinet full of booze, a pantry of old noodles and canned soup, not a single reason to leave. </p><p>It never bothered her before when people got killed in her peripheral, the cop shot in front of her comes to mind, <i>she</i> didn’t pull the trigger. It feels sacrilegious to think of Beverly in that group, she is so much more than that.  </p><p>Sliced to pieces as she once pulled apart crime scenes – </p><p>Freddie is going to be sick, washes the acid down with some gin. Bev would tease her for it, how she loved her fancy cocktails with her oh-so delicate palate. Then again, Bev would probably expect her to publish the snapshot snuff – an endorsement really, is she truly not going to? There’s only a limited time before –</p><p>The urge to hurl returns, and Freddie takes a deeper swig of the gin. It burns as it goes down, cheap and  in dire need of a chaser at the very least. </p><p>Slumping down on the couch, she shoves a hand down her pants and sips a little more gin. The flavor is mostly gone now, burn dulled to a warmth, and she flicks her clit, nail catching on the hood. She shifts, rubbing faster, mind searching about. </p><p>Unsurprising that it lands on Beverly, on death, on how very alone she is, how easy it would be for someone to come in here and – </p><p>“No,” Freddie says aloud, as if that’ll stop the voices in her head. </p><p>Another swig, and Freddie firmly directs her mind to the past. The first night they had sex in that shitty motel, the loud radiator and neighbors screaming at the television. How very out of place Beverly looked, angelic in comparison and the overwhelming awe that she was allowing Freddie to touch her like this, here, like – </p><p>Angelic, her mind echoes with a bitter laugh. Dead girl walking, and Freddie drinks more, doesn’t want to think. Rubs herself faster, a punishing pace with how dry she is, doesn’t care, is going to come dammit. She switches to circles, thinks about Beverly alive and that feels too painful, dead and fuck no, she didn’t want to go there. </p><p>Beverly exposed from the inside out, all visible in slides and – </p><p><i>Fuck.</i> </p><p>The stomach acid doesn’t stay down this time, Freddie barely making it to the sink before she’s sick. Fuck, she can’t stand her mind sometimes. Can’t stand any of this. </p><p>(The pictures get published. She isn’t the saint here.)</p>
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